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The distinction between pubs, gastropubs, dining pubs and food pubs is flimsy and fraught. Suffice to say that The Victoria, once a basic boozer in Altrincham, is now somewhere you might go for your tea. Chef Kevin Choudhary and partner Rachel Weatherill have worked all over town, including at Robert Owen Brown’s former Flixton pub, The Greyhound.

The place they now call ‘serious lease’ has benefited from some low-level swanky touches, and instead of cigarette smoke, a sense of relaxed welcome hangs in the air.

Choudhary, who’ll change the menu seasonally and emphasises local ingredients, says he often orders a couple of starters instead of a main.

It’s clear that first courses fire his imagination, as they’re much more creative than the big dishes. We tried three, and found flavours heading in the right direction. The creamy cockle tart (£4.95), which had home-made pastry and a slightly wobbly filling with a sea-skewed sweetness, would have been fine on its own. It actually came topped with a Morecambe Bay brown shrimp cocktail.

I’m not sure that the right thing to do to with these magic morsels is to coat them in a Marie Rose sauce and serve with unwieldy frizzy lettuce, but it was a nice idea. The smoked duck crumpet with chilli and honey butter (£5.55) proved that you can’t argue with a buttered crumpet, adulterated or not.

The chilli in the butter took a while to come through but had a kick when it arrived, and the duck was good quality with a rich smoke just the right side of heavy. The pigeon breast (£5.45) stuffed with Stilton and served with red berry jam and a Scotch pancake didn’t gel so well. My friend felt the pigeon didn’t get the chance to be pigeon, though he liked the light, spongy texture of the herbed pancake.

The idea of echoing a flavour with a garnish recurred with the most interesting main, pan-seared cod (£13.50) scattered with crisp whitebait. It had a thick dressing of crushed peas and parsley, and came on a patty of baked bubble and squeak.

My friend felt the fish lacked flavour, but the cooking was spot on. He also regarded the huge bunch of rocket on my lamb’s liver (£9.50) as salady penance, to be slogged through before the main event. It actually worked fine as a counterpoint to the offal and the accompanying raspberry jus.

The liver, cooked just pink, certainly needed something warm and saucy and sharp, but I finished the dish without being convinced that the raspberry sauce was it. I’d ordered the side dish of creamy cabbage and broad beans, (£2.50), but couldn’t taste any green among the cream. I felt it was too rich, perhaps as a side effect of the slight over-sizing of all the dishes, which is generous but not practical in the long term.

Foolishly with these filling portions, my friend was drinking caramelly, heady Leffe Blonde (£4.95), but a bottle of Spanish red, the blended Gran Marius Seleccion (£19.95) from Bodegas Piqueras, was approachable and softly fruity. Desserts (£4) were a summer pudding made with slices of chocolate cake instead of bread, a pleasant if not world-beating diversion from the norm, and a lemon tart with the delicious lemon meringue-flavoured ice cream from Dunham Massey.

This is one transformation that is a definite success. Wetherill runs front-of-house admirably, and the ale-drinkers as well as diners seem comfortable here. We witnessed one befuddled older gentleman pick up the big, shiny punch bowl from the bar and wave it at his mates with eyebrows raised, which elicited indulgent smiles but no reprimand from the barman.

The Victoria would be a magnificent place to have Sunday lunch or, if you’re after the most interesting dishes, do as Choudhary does and order two starters.